


As Long As I'm Here, You're Invincible!

by thunderingskies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:51:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 9,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6760270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderingskies/pseuds/thunderingskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miscellaneous drabbles or prompts for Haikyuu! characters. Anything that is too short to be considered a one-shot (generally speaking, below 775 words). I'll also post whatever random drabbles I write on tumblr here. If you have a request, drop it in the comments; they're always open!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Iwaoi: G

“Iwa-chan.”

 

“Iwa-chan!”

 

“ _Iwa-chanI_ ”

 

Hajime stirs, his lips pursing. He blinks slowly, the darkness of their bedroom surrounding him. It’s late – even with the curtains drawn, he can’t see even the tiniest sliver of light peeking through. As his eyes adjust he can see the clock adjacent to him, which reads 3:36 am.

 

“ _What?_ ” His voice is sharp, raspy from disuse and thick with sleep. It comes out harsher than he intends. He isn’t sure what the hell Tooru wants, but he really hopes it’s worth rousing him from his best hours of REM sleep.

  
He’s got a lecture early in the morning and he knows Tooru has the morning shift at his part-time job, so he figures this must be important.

 

“I… I… I just…” Tooru is curled up next to him, babbling incoherently. Hajime frowns as he shuffles in the bed, turning over to face Tooru.

 

The brunet is buried in the blankets, his naked body obstructed from view, save for a pale leg poking out one side of the blankets to keep his body from overheating. His fists are curled up tightly in their blue bed sheets, his face pressed against the pillow. Hajime can see he’s shaking, albeit only slightly.

 

“Iwa-chan, I… I had this dream…”

 

“Yeah?” Hajime lets a hand run through Tooru’s hair, rubbing softly at his temples, just the way that he knows Tooru likes it. “Bad dream?”

 

Tooru shakes his head, “No, not a bad dream. It was from when we were kids. You remember in the fourth grade, when I first got my glasses?”

 

Hajime chuckles lowly, “Yeah. They were way too big for your face.”

 

“I know,” Tooru begins, “They were huge and that dumb bitch in the fifth grade kept calling me names. Going on about how they made me look like a bug.”

 

Hajime hums. He remembers that very well. Mostly he remembers how cute Tooru looked, always pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, squinting when Hajime got too close or when he was starting to get a headache from wearing them for so long.

 

“My dream was that time when she snapped my glasses on the playground. Stole them right off my face, dropped them at the bottom of the slide and slid down to smash them.” Tooru uncurls his hands that were fisted in the sheets to press his palms against Hajime’s bare chest. His fingers feel cold against Hajime’s incessant heat.

 

“I remember that,” Hajime says softly. “Didn’t I give her a black eye?”

 

“You did.” Tooru lifts his head, and even in the dark Hajime can see how deeply he is gazing at him. His eyes blown wide like he just discovered the meaning of life, or just _how_ they managed to put cheese in an aerosol can.

 

“What of it?” Hajime asks, his voice slurred as he rubs an eye. He’s tired, he wants to sleep, but as always he indulges Tooru. Because he’s Tooru. _His_ Tooru.

 

“I remember thinking, wow, Iwa-chan is the greatest. I love him.” Tooru’s eyes meet his and he can’t bear to break their eye contact.

 

“Okay…” Hajime blinks slowly, “I don’t know where you’re going with this.”

 

“I think… I think I’ve always loved you. I mean, that’s just one of the few childhood memories I can remember. All the stories I still know… are ones with you in them.” Tooru breathes heavily as if learning this has lifted some sort of weight.

 

“I know,” Hajime whispers, pressing a kiss on his forehead. “I’ve always known.”

 

“Can you read my mind, Iwa-chan?”

 

“Yes,” Hajime indulges him, “Now go back to sleep.”


	2. Kurotsuki: E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Baby, you’re so hot that you denature my enzymes.”

“Baby, you’re so hot that you denature my enzymes.”

 

Tsukishima paused, the palms of his hands pressed flat against Kuroo’s exposed stomach. His boyfriend’s eyes were closed, head tilted back, black hair an even bigger mess than usual. Tsukishima eyed him warily; his mouth was closed now, though, so he allowed himself to continue.

 

Deft fingers slid below his jeans, fingers skimming along the waistband of his briefs. Tsukishima popped open the button, slowly shimmying them halfway down his ass just enough to expose the growing bulge in his pants. It had been a week and a half since they’d seen each other, completely swamped with schoolwork. Tsukishima could barely get any time off campus and when he could, Kuroo was always busy with his labs. Finally, _finally_ , they had squared away some time together.

 

“Can I be the phasor to your electron and take you to an excited state?” Kuroo opened his big fucking mouth again and Tsukishima let out an audible groan.

 

“Kuroo stop I am literally trying to suck your dick right now.”

 

“Nobody’s stopping you!” Kuroo peeked an eye open and grinned, that Cheshire-cat smile that Tsukishima would never admit made him weak at the knees. Still slightly annoyed, he yanked his cock out from the confines of his briefs, just tugging them down a bit and out of the way. Kuroo whined at the contact but it turned into a moan as soon as Tsukishima’s tongue swirled around the tip.

 

Letting out a satisfied huff, Tsukishima closed his lips around the tip of Kuroo’s cock. He took him in slowly, tongue swirling around just the way he knew Kuroo liked. His fingers ghosted soft touches across his hips, slipping into the curved V of his waist. Kuroo buried his hands in soft blonde hair, fingers twisting and pulling on the locks in encouragement.

 

Tsukishima smirked as he took him in deeper, hand grasping at the base of his dick. He squeezed, bobbing his head up and down, setting a casual rhythm. He swallowed around him, relishing in the sweet moans of his lover, wanting nothing more than for him to-

 

“My hypothalamus must be secreting serotonin because baby, I want you!”

 

Tsukishima pulled off Kuroo’s dick, resounding in a lewd pop. “Dear god why am I dating such a fucking nerd? I’m actually _trying_ to get hard here, you know.”

 

Kuroo grinned, hands sliding down the sides of Tsukishima’s neck to press softly against his shoulders. He spared a second to massaged the tight muscles there, eyes trained on the way they twitched and worked beneath his touch. Satisfied he continued his quest until his hands grasped at the familiar curve of Tsukishima’s hips. He pulled, guiding his boyfriend on to his lap. He didn’t seem exactly willing – not trusting Kuroo to keep his mouth shut – but he came anyway, allowing himself to straddle Kuroo’s hips, his clothed erection sliding against Kuroo’s exposed dick.

 

Kuroo pressed his lips against Tsukishima’s jaw. His fingers followed the trail of soft curly blonde hair that peeked out just above his boyfriend’s pants, sliding down soft skin before dipping below the waistband of his sweatpants. “That is, love, because according to the second law of thermodynamics, you're supposed to share your hotness with me.”

 

“I’m kinkshaming you.”


	3. IwaOi: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Bad Day

Tooru groans, slamming the door behind him with a loud bang.

He’s tired. 

He’s annoyed.

It’s one of those days where it feels like the entire world is plotting against him. His feet ache, his hand burns from a coffee spill, his tongue hurts from biting it. He’s exhausted from having to deal with other people’s problems. He tries not to take home his problems, he really does, but some days are harder than others.

From the couch, Hajime perks up. He’s laying comfortably, a blanket thrown haphazardly over his body, pillow tucked behind his head as he watches television. He listens as Tooru kicks off his shoes and drops his bag down somewhere in the entryway. It’s odd - usually he’s very vocal about coming home. It clues Hajime in right away to the possibility of something being wrong. 

Tooru likes to announce his presence like some sort of prince.

Which, Hajime would _never_  admit to him, he totally is in his eyes.

When Tooru comes into view Hajime has to force himself to not take his eyes off the television. On his off days, his quiet days, he knows that Tooru doesn’t like to be noticed. He doesn’t want to be talked with. He doesn’t want to answer questions. Not until he is ready to initiate it.

So Hajime mindlessly watches the screen, not paying attention to the actors playing out a familiar episode of his favourite t.v. show. He can hardly even hear their far-away voices.

Tooru approaches the couch, reaching out to grab Hajime’s arm. His fingers curl around his bicep softly, pulling. Hajime responds reflexively, lifting his arm to provide Tooru space. The brunet takes it wordlessly; he slides in, his body pressing against Hajime’s with familiarity. He feels cold and a little damp which tells Hajime it has probably started snowing again.

“Bad day?” He asks, burying his face in soft brown locks to press a kiss to the top of Tooru’s head. He gets a grunt of acknowledgement and Tooru nuzzles his face against his chest. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, his arms coming to wrap around Tooru’s shoulders. He rubs circles on his shoulder blade with a thumb, calmly and reassuringly.

They sit in silence, wrapped up together, for a while. Tooru’s breathing evens as he listens to the familiar regular beating of Hajime’s heart.

“I am now.” Tooru lifts up his head and _there it is_. He smiles, warm and bright, the one reserved for Hajime and Hajime alone. 

A weight is lifted and he doesn’t have to worry any longer.

“Good.” Hajime smiles and presses forward to kiss him softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”


	4. Kyouhaba: T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Lost (Kyoutani/Yahaba)

Yahaba froze.

He turned, eyes flicking around in a panic. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to try and relax even though the effort was absolutely in vain. His gaze fanned over face after face, searching the crowd for that familiar scowl and timid blush that he had grown to know so very well. He was unfortunately met with only the faces of strangers, young and old, men, women and children, glaring at him almost distastefully considering that he had come to a complete halt in the middle of the busy route.

He cursed under his breath, taking a step to the side so that he wasn’t completely in the way. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and leaned back against the side of a stall. His eyes screwed shut as his heart began to beat wildly. He hated crowds. He hated them, he hated feeling so lost and confused in them, so isolated. He didn’t even _like_ festivals. Why the hell was he even here again? He had come to this festival with _Kyoutani,_ who promised him that he wouldn’t leave him. He knew he hated this, he _knew it -_ this wasn’t supposed to happen, he didn’t know where to go, he didn’t know how to leave or get home or _where Kyoutani was_ –

“Shigeru!” A loud, booming voice cut through his thoughts. Yahaba stilled. He realized his hands had begun to shake, and he rubbed them together to soothe it.

“Shigeru, where the hell- no, YOU can shut the fuck up!” The voice growled. It was familiar and it brought a warm feeling to Yahaba’s chest. He _wasn’t_ alone. He opened his eyes, which immediately caught on the yelling, ranting blonde who was searching for him. He was arguing with some man trying to sell skewered meat, eyes looking panicked and mouth tight.

“Shigeru! Where did you…”

Yahaba let out a shaky breath. Kyoutani saw him. He saw him, he slowly approached him. Suddenly the overwhelming feeling of being lost and alone was gone. Yahaba felt a warm hand press against his cheek, thumb rubbing along his jaw soothingly.

“Found you.”


	5. Matsuhana: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cuddles

Hanamaki yawned, eyes blinking open slowly. The sunlight that streamed in from the window shone right into his eyes causing him to blink, annoyed, and roll over. He felt cold - normally he was burrowed in his blankets, but for some reason he didn’t have any on him today. He grunted, cold, rolling over to try and bury himself in his comforter. Instead of being able to actually do so though, he rolled on to a warm body with a soft _oof_.

He blinked, pausing, last nights events coming back to him. He had been hanging out with Matsukawa, they were binge watching some random show on Netflix when they fell asleep and _oh god_  he looked so adorable when sleeping.

His boyfriend was cuddled up in the bed, all of his blankets squeezed between his two arms in front of him. His back was to Hanamaki, but when he propped himself up on his elbows he got a good look at his face.

His usual messy black hair was an even bigger mess, swept all across his face and sticking to the pillow. His face looked so calm, so relaxed, more so than he usually was, his lips curled into a soft smile. His chest rose and fell softly, the only movement of his body. 

They had fallen asleep in his bed. Matsukawa hadn’t had any pajamas and was wearing one of Hanamaki’s shirts and his boxers and _oh god this is too much-_

Matsukawa shifted as he felt himself suddenly surrounded by warmth and a familiar scent. He breathed out, eyes opening just a sliver to see Hanamaki pulling him in close to his chest. Their legs tangled together, Matsukawa burying his face against Hanamaki. His arms wrapped around his boyfriend’s torso while Hanamaki ran his fingers gently through soft black hair.

Matsukawa grunted and Hanamaki chuckled softly, shushing him. “Go back to sleep, I just wanted to cuddle.”

He nodded in response, settling back down on the warm chest. Hanamaki smiled fondly, unable to contain the warmth that blossomed in his chest as he quickly drifted off back to sleep.


	6. Kyouhaba: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Help

“What was that?” Yahaba asked, a small grin playing on his face. He had the power here, and he liked it.

“Please don’t make me say it again,” Kyoutani replied gruffly, turning his head away in embarrassment.  A slight blush worked its way across his cheeks, lighting up his pale features.

“I didn’t quite get it the first time, I’m sorry.” Yahaba almost felt guilty about torturing him. _Almost_.

“I need your help,” he admitted with a loud sigh. “I need your help, Yahaba! I need you! I cannot do this by myself. I can’t do it without _you_. I don’t trust anyone else to help me, nor do I even want anyone else to do it. It has to be you, Yahaba.” He let out a loud, exasperated groan. “There, are you happy?!”

Yahaba just stared.

His cheeks flushed an embarrassing shade of red. He had expected Kyoutani to _maybe_ utter those words once again, maybe give him the small satisfaction of that. What he had not expected was to get that extremely blush-worthy confession from the generally pretty stoic boy.

When Yahaba didn’t reply, Kyoutani just exhaled sharply. “Look, I know it’s a hassle, so if you don’t wanna do it that’s fine-“

“No, no!” Yahaba cut in quickly, waving his hands in front of his body dramatically. “That’s not it. I was just, um. Surprised.” He paused, chancing a look at Kyoutani. The blonde was no longer blushing, just looking at him with a curious expression as he regarded Yahaba, who was _definitely_ not a full-body blusher. Nope.

“Oh. Okay.” Realization dawned on Kyoutani as he finally realized the full brunt of what he had said. He didn’t seem to embarrassed, though, or regretful. “Well, then, uh, Yahaba. Could you help me?”

“Of course I’ll help you.” Yahaba spoke quickly, afraid that if he waited even a moment too long he’d lose the nerve. “I’d be really happy to, actually.” He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves.

He reached out, hand extending towards Kyoutani. His instincts seemed to tell him to jump backwards and away from the touch but he fought them, staying rooted in place. Yahaba paused. It was just for a moment before he continued, moving until his fingers laced with Kyoutani’s.

His fingers were warm, slightly rough and calloused from all the time he spent playing volleyball. Yet he held on to Yahaba so gingerly almost as though he were afraid that a touch too rough could break him. Yahaba squeezed his hand and Kyoutani responded in turn, squeezing back.

“Come on,” Yahaba smiled, a _real_ smile and Kyoutani felt his stomach flop.


	7. Kyouhaba: G (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Angst

“You have some nerve saying _hello_ like nothing has happened.”

Kyoutani stands at Yahaba’s door, his feet planted firmly to the floor. He has had to steel his nerves, promising himself he won’t go inside his apartment. Once he crosses that threshold, he knows that he won’t be able to control himself.

“It’s been a week, Shigeru. You’ve been ignoring me entirely for a week. I think… I think it’s time we stop this.” Kyoutani takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.  He isn’t mad.

He’s tired.

He’s tired of feeling like a burden to Yahaba.

He’s tired of calling him and sending messages, only to not get any replies.

He’s tired of Yahaba only coming around when he wants him.

He’s tired of explaining why Yahaba is never by his side anymore.

But more than anything - he’s tired of loving someone who isn’t ready to love him back.

Yahaba agreed to be his boyfriend six months ago, and in the beginning, it was great. Yahaba liked Kyoutani. They would go out together to their friend’s parties, go on dates, spend _time_ together. But for the past month or so things have gone seriously downhill.

Yahaba isn’t ready to be tied down to a serious relationship. He likes to be able to do as he pleases. Take an impromptu trip on the weekend, flirt with any girl or guy that might catch his eye at a party. He likes Kyoutani, that much is certain, but it’s not the time for them.

“Kentarou…” Yahaba looks down at him, eyes wide. “It’s hard for me, you know? I just am trying to figure out some things… I do love you, I really do, I just-“

“Stop… just stop.”

Kyoutani sighs. Yahaba stops, finally stops, and looks at Kyoutani. The guilt is apparent on his face; he knows that he’s hurt his boyfriend. He knows that he’s been distant and pulling away, that he’s been trying to act like he’s single even though he’s not. He doesn’t understand himself or what he wants.

“This isn’t the end. It’s just… the part where I decide that enough is enough.”

That’s the worst part – he loves Yahaba. Even now, the urge to sweep away his tears with a thumb and kiss his forehead until he smiles is almost overwhelming. He hates to see him sad and crying. He’s not a bad person. He deserves to be happy.

Kyoutani just knows that right now, he’s not the right person to be making him happy.

“I’m sorry…” Yahaba is tearing up. “I’m sorry, this isn’t fair to you. I love you… I want to ask you to wait for me… but it’s not even fair.” He buries his face in his hands, tears spilling from his eyes.

Kyoutani shakes his head. He needs to leave and he needs to do it now. “No. I can’t do that.” He sighs, bringing a hand up to Yahaba’s face. He presses his thumb against his jaw, wiping away a tear.

“Goodbye, Shigeru.”


	8. Kyouhaba: G (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Angst Part 2

Yahaba yawns into his cup of coffee, taking a nice long sip. It’s made just the way he likes it – sweet, with a hint of vanilla flavour. The outdoor café he’s sitting at is quiet, thanks to the early hour. It’s his favourite place in the city – ever since he moved here six months ago, he visits it at least three mornings a week. All of the baristas know his order by now, which is kind of nice.

He looks to his side where his dog is curled up at his feet, resting after their morning walk. His dog is his faithful companion and has been at his side for the better part of the last year. He adopted the fur ball from the dog shelter on a whim, which was irresponsible for him but ended up being a great decision.

The brunet pulls out a book, skimming through a few pages in search of his place (he’s awful with bookmarks – he always loses them). He enjoys having these mornings to himself, enjoying some time outside now that the weather is nicer. He likes spring, his favourite season. The air is crisp from the rainfall they experienced the night before, the flowers blooming… everything is just as it should be.

As always, though, he feels that familiar ache that he’s become accustomed to. That little voice in his head telling him that something is missing.

He pushes it away though, as he always does. He gets lost in his book for the next half hour or so until his dog stirs by his feet, sitting up and sniffing. He barks softly which gets Yahaba’s interest. He’s not a loud dog – he only really barks when there’s another dog nearby.

So Yahaba isn’t really surprised to see a guy with his dog standing at the stand making his order. He’s got a beautiful golden retriever with him. It stands tall, limbs lanky yet Yahaba can see it’s well-cared for from its strong-looking muscles. It has a thick, dark brown coat, strands of fur blowing in the wind.

His eyes finally flick up from the dog and he freezes.

He sees familiar blonde hair with those trademark stripes. His gaze travels over his body – broad shoulders, large hands. He’s sure he’s just as muscular as before, but the dark brown hoodie he’s wearing is obstructing him from investigating.

He looks exactly the same as the last time he saw him, which was a year, six months and seventeen days ago (Yahaba would know – he’s been counting).  

It’s been a year, six months and seventeen days since he’d looked into those golden eyes.

In that time, he’s graduated college.

He’s out of his apartment.

He got a new job in a new city. He thought it would be a great start for him – which it was. For his career.

He’s travelled. He has spent time abroad, meeting lots of interesting and captivating individuals.

Yet, he has not dated anyone else. He had a few one night-stands, but the more he tried to talk to new people, the more he realized that nobody gave him that same, warm feeling that he got from a certain grumpy blonde.

Every time he thinks of Kyoutani, though, his heart flops. He remembers his expression on the night that they broke up. He was hurt, so sad, and it was all Yahaba’s fault. He’d been stupid and not ready.

Well, possibly not stupid. If there’s anything Yahaba has learned in his time away from Kyoutani it is that this time on his own has really allowed him to grow. He’s not the same person he was a year and a half ago.

He’s learned. He’s learned now to be selfish. He’s experimented, he’s failed, he’s succeeded. He’s beginning to discover what is truly important in life.

Now, confronted with this possibility… seeing Kyoutani _right in front of him_ … it all clicks into place. He _needs him_. There is nothing else.

He’s hurt Kyoutani. He knows this, he’s spent nights lying awake at night crying about it. He knows he can never make up for this lost time and the pain he’s caused. And yet… he has to move, he has to do _something_. He never thought he’d get a chance like this again. He knows that unless he gets over his fears right here and now, Kyoutani will forever be the one that got away.

And he will never forgive himself for night trying. For not at least giving it one more try and fighting for them.

Yahaba stands quickly, almost knocking his chair down in the process. Kyoutani’s dog whines, wags its tail wildly and tries to pull Kyoutani towards Yahaba and his dog. “Oi, stop pulling…” Kyoutani turns and he spots Yahaba.

Yahaba freezes about two feet away from him. His dog pulls on his leash and Yahaba lets it fall slack, allowing him to go up and sniff Kyoutani’s dog. Their tails wag as they sniff each other.

“Shigeru?”

Yahaba wants to cry. He wants to pull out his phone and record that, make it his ringtone, wake up to it every fucking day. The way he says his name is so _beautiful_. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead he just stammers, “I…I…I…”

He meets Kyoutani’s gaze and is surprised. He’s not mad. He’s not seething. He’s looking at Yahaba with soft eyes. Why?

“It’s good to see you, Shigeru.”

Yahaba nods. He steels his nerves, he pushes down the urge to burst into tears, because he has a lot to say. “You too… Kentarou.” He tests the name out, and to his pleasure it still feels wonderful. Kyoutani flinches a bit at the use of his first name, but his expression softens. “Do you… have a minute to sit down?”

Kyoutani doesn’t respond but instead nods, walking over to a table. His dog follows, sniffing and licking at Yahaba’s hands when he reaches down to pet him. “It’s cute, what it’s name?” He asks Kyoutani, sitting next to him at the small table.

“Miki,” Kyoutani answers. He leans down to scratch behind Yahaba’s dogs ear. “And yours?”

“Taro,” he replies. It’s surprisingly easy to talk to Kyoutani considering all that’s happened. “I… I have a few things I’d like to say. It might take me a minute to get out, so can you promise you’ll listen to everything before responding?”

Kyoutani nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

Yahaba takes a deep breath. There are so many things swimming around in his head – begs of _I love you_ and _please take me back_ alongside incessant strings of apologies. Kyoutani is patient, and busies himself petting Taro while Yahaba carefully considers what he wants to say.

“First of all… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Kentarou. You didn’t deserve what I did to you. You’re such an amazing person… all you ever did was love me. And I threw it away.” He breathes out, looking down. His face scrunches in displeasure as he recalls the painful memory. “But… I needed to learn. I needed to grow up. I wasn’t ready to be the person you deserve; the person you need. In this time that we’ve been apart, I’ve learned that. I can see it now. I can see what’s important, and what I was clinging to that wasn’t.”

He finally looks up to meet Kyoutani’s eyes, who is looking at him carefully, face emotionless. “I know that there’s nothing I can say to make up for what I did. I’m sure… no, I know how hard it was. How much it hurt. I know that, but I can’t help but be selfish and ask if you can forgive me. I need you, Kentarou. I love you so much, I never stopped. I don’t want to waste any more of our time being apart when we should be together. I… I want to prove to you how much you mean to me.”

Yahaba isn’t expecting instant forgiveness, or even forgiveness any time soon. He knows the damage he’s caused, but he’s determined. He’s unwavering in his desire to do whatever it takes to make this work.

“Remember what I said?”

“What you s-said?” Yahaba stammers, eyes looking up at Kyoutani. He’s still looking at him with such a calm, collected face.

“Yeah. When we broke up, what I said to you.”

Yahaba thinks, before nodding. “ _This isn’t the end,_ ” he says, quoting Kyoutani’s words.

“Exactly.”

He doesn’t seem to understand, though, so Kyoutani places one of his hands on the table, palm-up. Yahaba stares – just stares – before gingerly threading their fingers together. Kyoutani can feel how hard he’s shaking.

“I… I never stopped loving you, either. Don’t think I can. ‘S just the way it is.” Kyoutani looks up at him and offers him a smile.

Yahaba opens his mouth to answer, but all that comes out is a choked sob. He squeezes Kyoutani’s hand, shoulders trembling as he can’t hold back those tears any longer.

Kyoutani sighed. “Shigeru. What ‘m I gonna do with you?” He stands, pushes his chair closer to Yahaba so that when he sits, their knees are pressed together. He keeps his one hand pressed tightly against Yahaba’s and his other slides around his back, pulling him in to his chest. “C’mere.”

Yahaba finally lets go and cries, big, wet tears that fall on Kyoutani’s chest. The blonde holds him strong, gripping his hand, a warm weight against his back. “I’m sorry,” Yahaba chokes out.

“I know.” Kyoutani buries his face in soft brown hair. “I know you are.” He presses a kiss on the top of his head. It won’t be easy. He can’t trust that quickly again. But he owes it to himself to give them another chance.

He, too, wants to fight for this.

“Thank you,” Yahaba breathes. “I love you, Kentarou. Thank you for giving me another chance to show you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have to apologize for the angst lol hope this conclusion makes up for it! :)


	9. Kyouhaba: E (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Make-Up Sex

Kyoutani tilts his head back, letting out a soft moan. His breathing is heavy and his heart is beating a mile a minute in his chest. He briefly wonders if Yahaba can feel it, but that thought is quickly dismissed as a pair of hands press themselves against the small of his back, fingertips dipping just below the waistband of his shorts.

It’s been a _long_ time since they’ve touched each other in this way. (A year, six months and twenty-nine days, if you ask Yahaba. He’s been counting.) Kyoutani is initially very nervous about letting Yahaba back into his life – the pain he had caused, although long ago, still ached something fierce.

But having Yahaba by his side is starting to ease that pain. Slowly but surely.

Not only is it easing the pain in his heart, but it is awakening desires he’d long put to bed with the brunet out of his life. Now, though? He couldn’t keep his eyes off him.

Yahaba presses Kyoutani harder against the door to his bedroom, lips pressing against his with urgency. His hands slide down Kyoutani’s waist to the hem of his shirt and all but rip it from his body. He _needs_ him, god he needs him right now- Yahaba moans as he captures one of his nipples between his lips, rolling it around against his tongue. Kyoutani moans, digging his fingernails into Yahaba’s back, spurring him on.

Logic strikes and Yahaba pulls back only to hurriedly turn the doorknob of his bedroom. They stumble together, a mess of limbs as they kiss and feel and fall on to the bed. They kiss passionately, not willing to stop and wait for anything after having wasted so much time being apart.

Yahaba breaks the kiss and slides down Kyoutani’s body. He lets his tongue, teeth and lips explore his lover’s skin thoroughly. He wants to re-familiarize himself with every inch of Kyoutani; memorize his body like it was the first time he was seeing it.

“Is this okay?” Yahaba mouths against his skin, lips pressed next to his navel. He’s been extremely careful about asking – he doesn’t want to push. It’s important for him to know where his boyfriend is at and exactly what he wants. Kyoutani nods because _yes_ , he wants this _so_ badly, it makes him feel like a horny teenager and honestly he feels as though he should have more self-control than this. But who needs self-control anyway?

“Yes,” he mumbles against Yahaba’s lips, “I wanna fuck you. ‘S that what you want too?”

“Yes _please_ ,” Yahaba groans, setting to work. He sinks his teeth into the flesh of Kyoutani’s hips, relishing in his soft moans and pleads.

“God, I missed this,” Yahaba mumbles as he licks a circle around Kyoutani’s navel, letting his tongue trail over the salty skin. “You taste so good. You _look_ so good. God damn it, Kentarou.” His hands slide to Kyoutani’s front, tracing the distinct muscles of his abdomen. Yahaba presses down lightly, grinning with delight as he watches the muscles work beneath his skin. He’s fit as fuck and it’s honestly a huge turn-on.

Kyoutani grins, and because he is not the most patient of men, he lets his hands fist in Yahaba’s hair. He tugs - just on the side of rough - and Yahaba allows his body to be pulled flush on top of Kyoutani’s. Before he can say anything Kyoutani kisses him, tongue slipping out immediately, licking across his lower lip. Yahaba responds eagerly. He opens his mouth to give him better access and Kyoutani takes his time in tasting Yahaba.

Their lips slot together like they have never been apart; like they’ve been doing this for their entire lives.

Kyoutani slips his hands under Yahaba’s shirt, sliding up and feeling the soft skin of his back. He grips tightly to his shoulders as Yahaba moans into the kiss, grinding against Kyoutani unabashedly.

“ _Kentarou_ ,” Yahaba groans, pulling back just enough to get a good look at Kyoutani’s face.

He’s flushed, his lips red from kissing and he looks so damn handsome.

Yahaba knows how lucky he is.

Kyoutani’s fingers pop open the button of the brunet’s jeans, zipping them open. He wiggles them down until he’s able to slide them halfway down his ass; Yahaba takes the incentive to completely rid them from his body. Kyoutani tugs at his briefs and Yahaba chuckles breathily, pulling them off, too. Yahaba slides off Kyoutani’s sweatpants with familiarity, tugging off his boxers in the process.

Now that they’re both naked Yahaba straddles Kyoutani, their dicks sliding together. The blonde lets out a soft moan, eyes fluttering closed. But Yahaba won’t close his eyes – he’s too busy staring at the beautiful man beneath him, hard and flushed, body twitching with need.

Yahaba grins; his mind is flooded with memories of all the times they’ve fucked, the memory of that tingly feeling he’d get when Kyoutani would bend him over and all the places Kyoutani likes to be touched…

He experimentally presses his palms against Kyoutani’s hips, thumbs brushing just above his dick. His boyfriend keens, hips thrusting up as he moans from the contact. “Still ticklish, I see,” Yahaba chuckles as he thrusts his hips forward, brushing their cocks together again.

“Fuck,” Kyoutani curses under his breath, gripping tightly on to Yahaba’s hips. Yahaba slides his fingers down teasingly, pressing feather-light _just_ around his dick. It’s almost torturous and Kyoutani’s moans are filthy, which only spurs him on. Yahaba applies a little more pressure, fingertips swiping just above his balls and Kyoutani _growls_ -

Suddenly he’s on his back, Kyoutani hovering above him. Kyoutani’s teeth sink into Yahaba’s collarbone mercilessly, sucking until the skin blossoms into a deep bruise. He pops off, grinning, biting down on all the exposed skin of his chest. Kyoutani likes to bite, he likes to _mark_ and Yahaba can do nothing but squirm and moan at how amazing it feels.

“ _Shigeru_ ,” Kyoutani’s voice is so low and husky it makes Yahaba shiver. He arches his back as Kyoutani sucks another bruise on one of his shoulders. One of his rough hands slides its way down Yahaba’s chest, feeling his soft skin. He starts to rock their hips together, cocks pressing together hotly. Yahaba lets out a harsh grunt as his head slams back against the bed, his back arching. His toes curl and his body tingles, Yahaba begins to breathe heavily, panting almost until Kyoutani stops altogether and his weight leaves Yahaba.

“ _Kentarou-_ “ he whines, eyes fluttering open. Kyoutani is back, inching his way between Yahaba’s legs.

Kyoutani looks up and their eyes meet; he maintains eye contact as he presses kisses against the inside of Yahaba’s thighs, tongue lapping and teeth biting down on the plump flesh. The brunet moans as he makes more marks, marks that Yahaba _knows_ he should be embarrassed about but in this moment he really couldn’t care less.

Kyoutani hitches one of Yahaba’s legs over his shoulder, forcing his body halfway up and off of the bed. Yahaba whines and Kyoutani marks his leg with another small red bruise before pressing a wet finger against his entrance.

The taller stills, body freezing as Kyoutani slides a finger into him. It has been _so long_ since he has felt this indescribable pleasure and he stretches out his legs, keening in pleasure.

“So sensitive, Shigeru,” Kyoutani chuckles as he begins to move his finger. He rubs against Yahaba’s sensitive muscles gently, thrusting his finger in and out. Yahaba moans, body writhing under the touch. Kyoutani works him slowly until he’s able to add another finger, and then a third. He thrusts in with vigor, pads of his fingers searching for-

“ _Kentarou!”_ Yahaba moans loudly, filthily, his body shivering. He pants as Kyoutani grins, pressing against his sweet spot again. His vision blurs and he spews out nonsense, pleas for more and half-coherent moans of Kyoutani’s name.

Kyoutani scissors his fingers, thrusts a few more times just for good measure and pulls his fingers out. They’re slick and he rubs the brunt of it on his dick, squeezing more from the bottle. He lays Yahaba down gently, “How d’ya wanna do it?” He has no idea how much sex Yabaha has had recently and from behind would be the least painful but Yahaba always used to tell him he liked being able to kiss during.

“Like this, stupid,” Yahaba grunts but there’s no malice in his voice, only teasing. He knows Kyoutani and he’s glad to see him grin, lining his hard cock up against his entrance. He brings their lips together, a little wet but nonetheless perfect. Kyoutani presses forward and his cock slides past the first ring of muscle in Yahaba’s ass.

The brunet keens, eyes squeezing shut as he pants into their kiss. He’s not used to this – he hasn’t been fucked since Kyoutani – it burns, it _hurts_ , but in the most incredible way. He rolls his hips in a desperate attempt for more friction but Kyoutani doesn’t stop, he thrusts forward until he’s fully buried in Yahaba. It feels _incredible_ , he gasps for breath, _god_ how did he go so long without this?

“Oh fuck Shigeru,” Kyoutani moans, back arching as he stars to thrust. “I’m never letting you go again.” Yahaba’s body is pulling him in with every push and pull and he can’t help but watch where their bodies are connected, his cock deep inside Yahaba.

They move fast, with need, bodies pressing together hotly, moaning each other’s names passionately. It’s a show of trust, of forgiveness, revealing a need for each other that never fully dissipated. Kyoutani presses in hard and Yahaba rolls his hips to meet him, nails digging into his forearms.

Yahaba has heard about make-up sex before. Oikawa shamelessly told him many details from his own make-up after he and Iwaizumi spent a summer apart. From what he said, it was hot, it was unyielding and _incredible._

But hearing about it and actually experiencing it are two very different things.

His body is _screaming_. He wants to yell, cry, kiss Kyoutani, beg him to pound him into oblivion, see him moan his name while he comes… it’s overwhelming, every touch searing his skin but he pleads for more, mouthing incoherently against Kyoutani’s skin while he tries to kiss his neck. This is easily the best sex of his _life_ and he has to take a moment to thank whoever is up there for gifting him with this moment; with this man.

He feels _incredible_ , he moans against Kyoutani and begs him for more, more, _more_. Kyoutani relents and pounds into him harder, his dick slamming hard against Yahaba’s prostate. The former trembles as he throws his head back, a muffled groan of his lover’s name.

He’s beautiful, all soft skin and lovely eyes and hair, the way his voice drips with emotion like honey and Kyoutani knows he’s made the right decision. He brings their lips together, Yahaba trying to kiss him back as his pace increases and he’s moaning, they both are, as they come together.

\-----

Kyoutani groans, head hitting the pillow once they’ve cleaned up. Yahaba is already in bed – wearing nothing more than a borrowed pair of Kyoutani’s boxers – which pleases Kyoutani with its domesticity. It’s not that late but Kyoutani is tired from a very long day and the sex.

“Wanna cuddle?” Yahaba asks, laying down on the bed. Kyoutani flushes – really, from the intimacy – but nods. His boyfriend knows his weak spots, his favourite things. He slides under the covers, bringing them up and over his body. Yahaba lifts an arm and Kyoutani curls against him, one hand sliding over his body and the other draping across Yahaba’s pale chest to grip on to his waist. He nuzzles into the brunet’s neck, nose tickling his jaw.

Yahaba chuckles as he lowers his hand, resting it on the back of Kyoutani’s head. He lets his hand move slowly, rubbing circles and gently patting him. Kyoutani yawns, eyes closing as he relaxes under Yahaba’s touch. The latter holds up his book to read; he’s not tired enough yet to sleep but this is his absolute favourite thing in the world.

He continues to gently pat Kyoutani until he feels his chest rise and fall rhythmically, very soft snores escaping his pink lips.

“Goodnight, Kentarou. I love you,” Yahaba whispers, pressing a soft kiss to Kyoutani’s forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise conclusion to my Kyouhaba trilogy ;)


	10. Kurotsuki: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurotsuki prompt: Longevity

Kuroo wants to have Tsukishima all to himself forever.

To feel his warm lips on his, the way his tongue would swipe across his bottom lip so effortlessly before exploring his mouth. A mouth that belongs exclusively to him, just as every other inch of Kuroo’s body does. A body he will give to him so willingly, as soon as he asks.

To wake up next to him, roll over and bury his face in the warm expanse of his back. To feel, instead of see, the steady rise and fall of his chest with every shallow breath he takes. Listening to the gentle groans and displeased moans that escape his lips as he’s pulled from his own little dream world and back into reality.

To slot their fingers together while walking to classes, warm palms pressed together without a care in the world. To feel Tsukishima’s long fingers rubbing circles into the palm of his hand and haphazardly tickling his forearm without even realizing it.

To kiss his tears away whenever he feels sad. No matter the cause - even if Kuroo has messed up and done something to hurt him, he will press his lips to his cheeks and lick up salty tears until Tsukishima smiles. Until he hears that throaty laugh and demand for Kuroo to get up and to stop crushing him. A request he always ignores in favour of deep snuggles, cheeks pressed together firmly.

To go everywhere together, no matter if it’s the library or the doctor’s office. To always feel that support, that care and adoration. He likes feeling like he’s not alone, especially in this immense, uncaring world.

To feel so much love in his heart that he’s sure it’s going to burst. There’s no way that one body can be able to contain this much love. It just isn’t natural. Maybe that’s what doomed him.

What Kuroo wants is longevity, which is the one thing he doesn’t have.


	11. Iwaoiteru: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IwaOiTeru prompt: Festivals

“Yuuji, are you coming?!”

Yuuji looks up, eyes catching on the sight of Tooru. He’s dressed in his traditional festival outfit, which really accentuates his beauty. The soft shades of blues highlight his pale skin and bright eyes. He’s smiling, which is always a good look for him, especially when it’s his real smile.

Honestly, it’s almost hard to look at him without Yuuji’s little heart aching.

“Yeah,” he responds, grabbing his coat. He’s just wearing a casual outfit – some black pants and a nice gray sweater – because it looks like it might get cold and he wants an excuse to have a jacket to offer to Tooru.

They head out, their fingers lacing together with familiarity. This isn’t the first time that they’ve done this and Yuuji hopes with all of his heart that they’re able to do it together for many years to come. Walking down the sidewalk together is so sweet and easy.

However, something is missing.

More precisely – someone.

They make it to the festival which is bustling due it being the biggest New Year’s Eve festival. There are people everywhere – old and young, men, woman and everyone in between. Yuuji grips Tooru’s hand a little tighter under the guise of not wanting to get separated in the crowd.

Tooru doesn’t seem to mind – in fact, he’s holding on just as tightly. They walk past food stands and games, heading straight for a familiar tent where they know someone special will be performing.

When they finally make it, Yuuji’s breath is taken away because Hajime is stunning.

He isn’t often convinced to participate in festivals like this, but somehow this year he has been convinced to participate in a performance. They all know it’s only because his sensei asked him, who he adores, but nobody even cares because this is such a special and rare thing to witness.

Hajime is wearing a very simple white outfit that hangs loosely from his body, allowing him to move with ease. It’s quiet around him; the only noise being the shuffling of people in the distance and soft murmurs and whispers. His performance is so elegant. It’s a show of strength and grace in a form of martial arts, which Hajime has studied for many years and is quite proficient in.

He moves with ease, eyes closed. His muscles work diligently beneath his skin, tanned arms glistening under the gentle light above him. It’s obvious why Hajime was selected for this; he embodies everything that one is looking for, that one needs when practicing.

Somehow they’ve stood there for an hour, hands gripping together tightly, and Hajime is finished. He bows politely before walking off, and wiping his face. He chats with his fellow performers, gulping down water before his boyfriends manage to find him.

“You were amazing,” Tooru says quietly. Iwaizumi blushes and turns around to see the face of his brunet boyfriend. He scoffs, attempting to rebut his comment when Yuuji pipes up too.

“You’re so beautiful, Hajime.”

Hajime blushes, looking down. He places his hand between where theirs are pressed together. They pull apart, allowing him space to enter between them and grasp at each one of their hands.

“Thanks,” he whispers as Yuuji and Tooru pepper his cheeks with kisses. “Okay – now – enough!” He laughs though, so they know that everything is okay.

“Come on, let’s eat. It’s my treat.” Yuuji perks up at this, immediately rattling off the dozens of things he wants to eat at the festival.

Hajime squeezes his hand and Tooru flashes him a warm smile and Yuuji knows. He knows that they’ll always be together, because there’s really no Yuuji without Hajime and Tooru at his side.


	12. Iwaoiteru: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IwaOiTeru prompt: Victory

”“We did it.” Oikawa is breathless, eyes looking up to meet with Iwaizumi’s. He is looking back at him with such a look of awe and amazement.

He’s sure he’s looking at Iwaizumi with that exact same expression.

They both look up across the court. 

They’ve finally defeated Ushijima.

It took until college - a new chapter in their lives, new growth for both Oikawa and Iwaizumi in more ways than one. They’re not the same people that they were in high school. Oikawa has learned to be more selfless and caring; Iwaizumi has learned to be more flexible. Their growth is surely to be attributed to one very specific blonde with an undercut who refused to give up on them and made them see that they still could be better, could improve, could _change_.

“YAHOO! YOU WON!!” A _loud_  voice booms from up in the audience bleachers. Somehow, even over the cheering, they hear him perfectly. Both Iwaizumi and Oikawa look up to see Terushima waving his hands wildly, grinning proudly. 

Oikawa’s vision blurs.

He doesn’t remember anything after that, only the cheering and hard claps on his back, until he feels himself being pulled into a tight embrace. He’s not on the court anymore. He’s in the back room. Iwaizumi is whispering into his shoulder but he can’t make out the words; Terushima is at his back, squeezing his waist tightly. Oikawa can feel tears falling on to his jersey coming from all three of them.

“You won,” Terushima whispers hoarsely, squeezing both of them tightly. “You two won and I’m so proud of you.”

“No,” Oikawa finally chokes out between sobs, “ _We_  won, Yuuji. We won and it’s all thanks to you.” He wants to say more - thank him for his support, for all the late night he’s spent throwing volleyballs and helping with homework. Show his gratitude for all the times he’s hugged and cuddled him when things haven’t gone their way. He can’t say anything though, sobs overtaking him, but it doesn’t even seem to matter.

Because Terushima knows. He always knows - that’s just come with loving him.

“I love you,” Terushima whispers, pressing kisses to the side of his face. He then moves to Iwaizumi, bringing their lips together. “And I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a ton of IwaOiTeru headcanons on my tumblr, go check them out: we-crows-can-fly


	13. Kagehina: M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: KageHina/Pillows

“Dumbass, you’re hogging the pillow.” Kageyama poked Hinata’s lower back, hard, resulting in a yelp coming from the boy laying inches away. They were both warm from a quick post-sex shower, curled up in bed. It was late, but the heat prevented their exhaustion from settling them to sleep, even with their ceiling fan spinning continuously. 

“Bakagama, I am not, this is _my_  pillow!” Hinata squirmed, holding on to the pillow for dear life. He was laying facing away from Kageyama, the pillow crushed between his head and his arm. If they were any closer they would have been spooning, but the heat of summer prevented any of that nonsense.

“Yeah, well, you got cum all over my pillow.” He groaned, poking Hinata again. The redhead shivered at the touch, still sensitive all over.

“That is not my fault! You’re the one who put that pillow-”

“Shouyou-”

“-under my ass when we were having sex.”

Kageyama growled, “Yeah, but then _you_  are the one who was wiggling all over the damn place! You couldn’t stay still, so I just had to pull the pillow away because it was just making it difficult to keep up my pace.”

Hinata huffed. “ _Exactly!_  You should have moved it further away. Cum leaks, dude. You’re the one who was fucking me and decided to start jerking me off.”

“Well did you want to cum or should I have made you do that by yourself?”

Hinata made a face, “yeah, but you were the one who made me cum everywhere with all that stimulation!”

“It was _your cum_.”

“Yeah, that _your hand_  was aiming!”

“I didn’t aim shit-”

“Well,” Hinata cackled, “maybe that’s the problem!” He tightened his grip on the pillow, predicting where this was going. 

Kageyama scoffed. “Shouyou-”

“Tobio!”

That was the last straw, Kageyama decided; he reached forward quickly intending to rip the pillow from Hinata’s grasp. His fingers curled around the cool pillow and he pulled.

But Hinata was not one to be outdone so easily - and not by Kageyama of all people.

He held on, scrambling to get a good hold on the cotton pillow. Kageyama pulled, Hinata resisted. 

“Let-go-dumbass!” Kageyama snapped, his voice low as his biceps twitched under the effort of pulling.

“Stop-it-you’re-gonna-break-it!” Hinata whined, doing his best to hold on, not willing to give an inch.

But then-

_Riiiiiiiiiiip._

The pillow ripped clean in half - Kageyama rolled back from the effort of pulling, a mess of pillowcase and feathers from the pillowcase flying _everywhere_. Hinata grunted as he rolled, too, right off the bed and on to the floor.

Kageyama sat up, feathers strewn everywhere. His gaze turned to Hinata on the floor, completely naked, looking up at him with a look of shock. 

He scowled. He wanted to get angry. He wanted to strangle his stupid fucking boyfriend with the remnants of the pillowcase because _that was their last nice one_ -

But he didn’t, not really, and instead he found himself laughing.

“Shouyou…” he snorted, trying to muffle the sounds with a hand. “Shouyou, you’ve got a feather on your dick.”

A hand whipped down there and the redhead blushed, quickly shooting up on his feet. “ _Tobio!”_

He hastily tried to pluck of each of the feathers, but as his body was a little damp still from the shower and the heat, they clung to him unforgivingly. He spun in circles, scrambling to pull them off his arms, his sides, the back of his legs, all to no avail. They just fluttered in the air, until they found a new patch of skin to cling to.

Kageyama full out _chortled_ , holding his stomach and wheezing with laughter. “Oh-my-fucking, god, they’re in your hair, and, your thighs, ah-” Kageyama rolled over in the bed, laughter overtaking him.

“You have them all over you too, you know!” Hinata sprang into bed, straddling Kageyama and rolling them to the far side of the bed, feathers and all. He stared down into Kageyama’s blue eyes until the laughter died off his lips; but neither one could hide their smiles. 

Kageyama pulled a feather out of Hinata’s hair, the redhead mirroring the action and claiming a feather from behind Kageyama’s ear.

“Go and get the couch pillows, Shouyou. I’ll clear off the bed.”

They ended up sleeping that night with the less-than-comfortable couch pillows, but that was alright. Hinata dug out the extra standing fan, turning it on right near the bed. With the room cooled down and their bodies able to be pressed together, Hinata found that Kageyama made a much more effective pillow.


	14. Kyouhaba: G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When I said _whatever helps you sleep at night_ , I didn’t mean this.”
> 
> Kyoutani blushes with his entire body; he’s pretty sure he’s never been more embarrassed in his entire life, thanks to none other than his stupidly cute annoying setter. How Yahaba has gotten him to agree to this he’ll never know, but for some reason they’re currently sharing the same _bed_ , the same _blanket_ \- and then Yahaba moves his head up and they’re sharing the same _pillow_ , oh my _God -_

“When I said  _ whatever helps you sleep at night _ , I didn’t mean this.” 

Kyoutani blushes with his entire body; he’s pretty sure he’s never been more embarrassed in his entire  _ life _ , thanks to none other than his stupidly cute annoying setter. How Yahaba has gotten him to agree to this he’ll never know, but for some reason they’re currently sharing the same  _ bed _ , the same  _ blanket _ \- and then Yahaba moves his head up and they’re sharing the same  _ pillow,  _ oh my  _ God _ \- 

Yahaba laughs, and due to their closeness, Kyoutani can feel it move through his entire body. “You’re the one who said it, Kyoutani. And trust me - this is going to help me sleep at night.”

“I only said it ‘cause you were being all self-righteous,” he huffs, looking up at the ceiling. He said it intending it to shut Yahaba up, not to start  _ this _ . It all starts after their evening practice. They’re at an away training camp for the volleyball team, so they’re out of town; instead of the usual sharing rooms, the place that the team is staying at is actually pretty nice, so they all get their own rooms to sleep in.

Yahaba initiates it with some smartass comment. Kyoutani can’t even remember what exactly he said, but it was something self-righteous; something reminiscent of the days when Oikawa was the team captain, before they become third-years. So, of course, Kyoutani - the not-so-level-headed vice-captain - retorts with his clever line to try and get Yahaba to shut his trap.

Instead, Yahaba just smiles wickedly, “I intend to hold you to that.”

Apparently  _ hold you to that _ really means  _ hold you _ literally, which Kyoutani finds out the hard way when after lights-out Yahaba just walks right into Kyoutani’s room and flops down on his bed.

They’re not cuddling, their bodies just barely touching at the shoulders, hips and feet. Kyoutani isn’t sure if he wants to curse, scream, run away or try and wiggle a little bit closer.

Maybe a bit of all four?

Yahaba’s breathing is calm and even. It’s clear that he’s relaxed doing all this - damn him - but Kyoutani’s head is spinning. He’s desperately trying to calm his rapid heartbeat, afraid that Yahaba might feel it and make fun of him for it. He closes his eyes but all he can concentrate on is the fact that he can  _ feel _ Yahaba’s warmth seeping into him at every tiny spot their bodies are connected. It’s addicting; he wants more, he’s sure of it.

Kyoutani is so caught up in his own racing thoughts that he barely registers when Yahaba talks. “Kyoutani?” His voice is smooth, and sweet. Kyoutani can’t bring himself to reply so he just huffs to let him know that he’s listening. “I can leave if this is really bothering you.” Yahaba shifts, just enough so that his body is angled towards Kyoutani’s, and props himself up on an elbow.

Kyoutani’s ears burn. This is what it’s going to come down to, then. Is he brave enough to admit it to Yahaba, or is he too cowardly to even speak?

But, as always, Kyoutani’s gruff, quiet nature doesn’t deter Yahaba. Instead, he inches a little bit closer, free hand coming up to poke Kyoutani on the cheek. “Hey. Kyotuani. I’m talking to you.” Kyoutani just grumbles, so he continues; he pokes his cheek once more before running his fingers down his neck, dipping down on his collarbones gently just enough to-

“Yahaba!” Kyoutani sputters and  _ he’s found it _ , Yahaba chuckles as Kyoutani squirms beneath him to try and escape the ticklish feelings, “S-Stop it, ya idiot,” he  _ laughs _ , and with his eyes closed he misses the way that Yahaba flushes at the sweet sound of his laughter.

“No,” he insists, “Not until you tell me what you’re thinking.” Yahaba grins, shifting up on his knees. He gives himself better leverage to start tickling him with  _ two _ hands now, sliding his hands down to Kyoutani’s ribs and tickling.

Kyoutani laughs, pure and sweet and unadulterated; it spurs Yahaba on. Kyoutani tries to stop him and push him off, but Yahaba manages to wrestle him down until he ends up straddling his hips, holding down a hand under each of his legs. 

“I can do this all night Kyou,” Yahaba threatens, sweetly. He smiles as he runs just his fingertips along Kyoutani’s ribs, so lightly - but it’s enough to make him laugh, back arching as he tries to fight the unexpectedly pleasant feeling. 

“Alright alright alright! I give!” Kyoutani sputters, trying to catch his breath admits the laughter. “Stop and I’ll talk.”

“Promise?” Yahaba looks up, eyes searching Kyoutani’s, unspoken words swimming between them.

“Yeah.”

Yahaba relents, releasing Kyoutani’s hands. He moves off of him, flopping down on the other side of the bed, eyes watching him expectantly.

Kyoutani sighs.

He supposes that maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to let Yahaba see him flustered. 

It’s okay, because it’s Yahaba. 

So he ignores the blush on his face - there’s no way he can stop it anyway - and reaches out, hand finding Yahaba’s. Their fingers slide together and he pulls, slowly, as Yahaba inches closer and closer to him, until they’re fully pressed together, and cuddling properly.

“You can stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any prompts, leave them in the comments! I love filling requests :)
> 
> Thanks for reading! ❤


End file.
